


Special

by msjgatsby



Series: Girl Talk [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, Spin the Bottle, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 19:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13508265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msjgatsby/pseuds/msjgatsby
Summary: They were playing a game. They were friends. They were drinking. They were teenagers with hormones. Nothing more.





	Special

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was writing girl talk, and had to detour to write this scene. It may help put things a bit in context if you read Girl Talk first, but it’s really not necessary. This is just academy smut with no real plot at all. Academy era starts after the line. Before is just a sort of tag to get it introduced.

“These are perfectly normal contractions. You’re going into labor, but nowhere near dilated enough yet. Are you sure you don’t want any pain medication?” Simmons offers politely. 

“No drugs. I can do this.” Bobbi insists, breathing heavily.

“Alright then! Best to just distract yourself and think of something else until it’s time to push. Fitz should be returning with Hunter any minute now!” Simmons chirps, looking nervously at the clock. “Is there anything I can get you while we wait? Ice chips?”

“Yes, you can do something for me.” Bobbi says taking Simmons' hand.

“Anything.” Simmons promises.

“Tell me the story.” Bobbi has the look of someone who has just won a very long game of chess. "It'll keep me occupied until Hunter gets here."

“Ok… A story... Hmmm... So while we were at the lighthouse in the future, I had been taken by Kasius and-” Simmons stalls, because she knows this is not the story Bobbi wants to hear, but thinks that if she keeps telling it long enough maybe the boys will arrive and she can avoid telling the real story.

“Simmons! You know what story I want to hear.” Bobbi scolds.

“Sorry?” Simmons plays dumb.

"You said your first kiss with Fitz was in the laboratory after he rescued you from the monolith. You were telling the truth then." Bobbi challenges Simmons, bringing up the hen night once again, "But, you also said there was a game of spin the bottle at the Academy. The bottle landed on you, but you didn't kiss Fitz then. But SOMETHING obviously happened. What happened?"

"Well I didn't fully go into detail on the spin the bottle incident." Simmons admits. Damn that Bobbi and her super spy lie detector abilities.

“Well we played it a little differently… It wasn’t just kissing. There were other options. There were other rules and things that were done determined behind the way the beaker spun. There were riddles, it’s actually quite complicated. I could write it down for you-” Simmons offers, trying to race off to escape under the guise of getting a pen and paper.

“Simmons! What happened at the Academy with you and Fitz?!” Bobbi demands, summoning all the terror of a very pregnant woman with nothing to lose.

“There’s nothing really to tell.” Jemma says, looking at the door, hoping for Hunter to enter and get her out of this, “We were playing a game. We were friends. We were drinking. We were teenagers with hormones. Nothing more…”

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
“Well I give up. We're completely locked in. They’ve got to get bored sometime, once they realize it’s not happening." Fitz grumbles, his ears tinted pink with embarrassment as he gives up on trying to free them from the closet and plops himself down in defeat next to Simmons. Simmons who has been oddly quiet and unhelpful in the attempted escape. "Can you believe that lot? Bunch of neanderthal hormone ridden-”

"I want to try."

"WHAT?!!!" Fitz's voice cracks in a rather undignified squeal of surprise. Clearing his throat he realizes she can't possibly mean what he thinks she means and goes for the more rational explanation, "You mean... fake it right? Fool them into letting us out?"

"Well, I've never done it before and I'm curious. Plus it is technically the rules of the game. It doesn't have to mean anything. It can be platonic!" 

Fitz waits for her to finish that sentence with something that makes more sense than what she's saying. When it becomes clear she's done talking he waits another beat just to be sure.

"..."

"WHAT?!!!" He's so shocked his entire vocabulary has been reduced to one word, apparently.

"I just think it would be letter to learn with someone I trust and..." Simmons tries to explain rationally. "Well, have you ever had anyone…?"

"I hardly see how that's relevant..." Fitz crosses his arms over his chest and blushes.  

If it were anyone else other than Simmons asking him, he would have assumed they were being cruel and teasing him, because of course he's never done this. He's an awkward teenager, painfully shy, decidedly odd, and he's only just gotten up the nerve to talk to people this year, and usually Simmons does most of that for him. But Simmons, bless her soul, seems to see nothing funny about the idea that someone might have wanted to touch Fitz in that way in the past.

"Think of it like an experiment." Simmons says, trying to appeal to his scientific side.

"An experiment where you see my- my-" Fitz can't even say the word out loud.

"I won't look!” Simmons promises. He gives her a withering doubtful stare. She grabs a worn throw blanket from the corner of the closet and tosses it over his lap. "Here!"

Fitz looks down at the thin fabric covering his lap, barely concealing the slight tent already forming there, because while his brain isn't convinced this is a good idea, other parts of him are definitely interested.

"Look, we're bound to start dating soon anyway and wouldn't it be nice to go into a relationship with a little bit of experience?" Simmons smiles warmly at him.

"We... we are?" Fitz asks, his voice shaking. He's looking her in the eyes for the first time since the closet door closed, trying to read her mind. 

Christ, did she have their entire life together planned already and he had no idea? He heard other people teasing them about how they should just date already, but he didn't expect Simmons to be one of those people. They were friends. What if they dated, it didn't work, and Fitz lost his best and only friend? His life had changed for the better the day he met Jemma Simmons. He didn't dare tell her how much having her in his life meant to him, it would go straight to her head, but the idea of losing her and going back to the loneliness of life before Simmons terrified him. It would be like losing half of himself. The better half. They were so often together the kids at school had started calling them Fitzsimmons. While at first it annoyed him, he came to realize he liked being Fitzsimmons so much more than he liked being just plain Fitz. He didn’t know if he could go back at this point to being just Fitz, but wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. Dating her was a gamble he was unwilling to lose, but he feared if she asked him out and he said no, he’d lose her anyways.

"Yes, Fitz. We're past puberty now, dating is a normal social activity. Milton asked me out just last week." Simmons explains to him the way she feels she must explain most social conventions. 

Fitz is brilliant, but not always great at human interactions. He’s easily frustrated when people don’t understand him, and no one seems to understand him except Simmons and a possibly a few of his professors. He doesn’t see the point in many social lubricants such as being polite, giving compliments, or participating in small talk. He is becoming better at socializing with her gentle prodding, but Simmons knows for the most part he would rather let her interpret him to the world. What would he do when he started dating? She certainly won't be able to tag along with him on his dates to decode the woman's body language. Not that Simmons has much experience in dating herself, but she knows that she is now of the age to start traditional mating rituals, and wants to plan accordingly.

"Milton?" Fitz asks confused, his face scrunching up in disgust. "The guy with the cabbage head? You can't possibly be interested in him."

"He's not that bad! And Milton's not the point. The point is we will both start dating people soon, we can't spend all our time together, and I'd like to be prepared."

"Simmons..." Fitz groans, because this is not something you prepare for like an exam! Especially like this. He also doesn't see why they need to go date now. It's hardly an ideal time. They’re still teenagers. They’re in a rigorously demanding school. They have a schedule, and Fitz likes schedules. There's simply no time to date people right now while staying at the top of their classes, not to mention their side projects and staying caught up on Doctor Who. Fitz doesn't even know how he allowed her to drag him to this damn party. They should be in the dorm working on the designs he came up with for a new dendrotoxin delivery system. 

"Seriously? Milton?" Instead of trying to object to the whole concept of dating, Fitz settles for simply chiding her on her choice of dates again.

He should be relieved Simmons was not asking him out, like he initially feared, but that relief is overshadowed by annoyance that she would date someone like Milton. He wasn’t good enough for Simmons at all, and if Simmons started seeing Milton that meant Fitz would have to put up with him if Fitz wanted to keep seeing Simmons. 

"It's not just about Milton! Don't tell me you haven't noticed the way Kady's been eyeing you." Simmons changes tactics to try to convince him. She should point out how this could be beneficial for him. 

"Who?"

"Kady. In our chem five class? She sits three rows back and makes eyes at you the whole class? She's pretty. Perhaps wears slightly too low of tops for her frame, but maybe you like that?" She looks Fitz up and down realizing she doesn’t actually know what Fitz’s taste in girls is like.

"Who?" Fitz asked, still confused as to what the hell Simmons is talking about. He's not sure at this point if she wants him to take his trousers off or not. They seem to have gotten off topic.

"Honestly Fitz!" Simmons groans not sure how he can be so obtuse. 

“Simmons, I have no clue who you’re talking about.” Fitz answers honestly. There were lots of girls in their classes, but most of them were much older than Fitz, and as far as he knew none of them were remotely interested in him.

"She's not subtle. I want to buy her a turtleneck for fear one day she'll just fall out of her top. Every time you walk by she's like-" Simmons puckers her lips in a pout and leans over to accentuate her chest, lifting it high with her hands, in an imitation of the buxom girl, "Oh, Fitz. Can you help me with the answer to question 12? Quite honestly, for the amount of times she asks you for help, I'm not even sure she can count to-"

"OK!!!" Fitz says quickly and a little too loudly, interrupting Simmons’ jealous rant, his eyes locked on her chest as she leans over. 

"Ok, what?" Simmons asks confused, because Fitz looks a little pale and quite frankly, terrified.

"Ok, we can try..." Fitz gulps nervously still not meeting her eyes, "Handjob." 

"Oh." Is all Simmons can think to say, "Alright, how do we start?"

"I don't know! This was your bloody idea." Fitz hisses at her nervously.

"Well, maybe you should unbutton your trousers." Simmons suggests, suddenly feeling butterflies in her stomach. 

"Right... Yeah..." Fitz stares at her for a moment, afraid that any moment now she's going to tell him she's pranking him and the whole of the party will bust into the closet laughing at him.

His hand slowly comes under the blanket and he unbuttons his trousers. He looks over at her for a reaction, and sees that she's watching each movement he makes with extreme interest. He takes a deep breath and then undoes the zipper. He shimmies his pants down under the blanket so that, other than the blanket, his lap is exposed. His erection tents the blanket obscenely without his pants to hold it down. He looks over at her nervously but she's still staring entranced at his lap without a hint of mockery on her face.  

"Um... Simmons? Do you want me to… to touch you too-" Fitz asks, not really sure what he should do with his hands.

"No!" She gasps in shock. 

She doesn't know why, but the idea of his fingers inside of her seems so much more intimate than her touching his penis. While it seems like a line she's not ready to cross, just the idea of him touching her makes her squeeze her thighs together to dull the strange ache that's beginning. She actually thinks she can feel the rush of adrenaline, oxytocin, and dopamine flooding her system. She knows logically this is what happens during arousal, and she’s experienced something similar alone in her bed, but it has never been this intense or sudden. The closet seems very hot and small of a sudden, and she’s feeling lightheaded like perhaps there’s not enough air.

"Ok, yeah sorry! I won't. I just thought... y'know. Sorry, it was a stupid idea." Fitz answers quickly, worried he's offended her and not sure if he should pull his pants back up.

"No, it's alright. Let's just..." Simmons then rolls up her sleeve, and Fitz is wondering what on earth she thinks a handjob involves if she needs her whole upper arm for it. Then without warning she reaches under the cover and grabs his entire length in her small palm.

 

"BLOODY HELL!" Fitz shrieks, grabbing her arm and pulling her away after she barely touched him.

"What? What's wrong?" Simmons asks, alarmed. She was sure the books said that a firm grip was necessary. She hadn't even done anything yet. Not really. How had she messed this up already?

"Simmons, your hands are FREEZING." Fitz informs her.

"Oh! Sorry!" Jemma pulls her hands up to her cheeks and realizes they are quite cold, especially compared to how hot he had felt in her hand for that brief touch. She rubs her hands together and blows on them to try to warm them up. 

"Better?" She asks pressing her now warm hand to Fitz's cheek. He looks at her and somehow the gesture of her cupping his cheek and staring into his eyes hopefully, feels far more intimate than when she touched his dick. His stomach flips in his stomach and his mouth feels dry. He feels warm all over and suddenly starts to doubt this platonic experiment she had in mind. 

"Maybe this is a bad ideaaaahhhmmmm..." The words dissolve into a low hum as she takes him in her now warm hand. 

"Oh." Jemma lets out a sigh. She takes a moment just to feel the weight of him in her hand, not yet daring to move. He's hot and thick enough her small hand can just barely close around it. She’s fairly certain she can feel his heartbeat against her hand, but maybe that’s just her own wildly racing pulse.

“Mmmmphhh…” Fitz squirms, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into her hand, an unmanly sound escaping his tightly pressed lips.

“How... how big is it?” Simmons asks, trying to gather intel. She can't see him under the blanket but he feels so large in her hand. Larger than she expected from Fitz, not that she had ever spent much time before thinking about his dick. She wonders how it would even fit inside her. Not that he will. She’s not planning to actually sleep with FITZ of course, but if this was what all penises were like, she worries how she ever will sleep with a man.

“Ummm.. average?” Fitz guesses, not wanting to reveal his measurements to her. He was nothing compared to the porn he occasionally viewed, but his size was the one thing mercifully kids in the showers had never really teased him about, and they found ways to tease him about everything else, so he assumed he was ok.

"Is it always so... tumescent?" Jemma asks, finding herself endlessly curious.

"I'm a teenage boy Simmons. It's perfectly normal." Fitz says through gritted teeth, finding her questions unbearable. He can't think about anything other than this is the first time in his entire life someone other than himself has touched his dick. Simmons’ hand feels warm and soft as she gently fondles him. She's sitting so close he can smell the floral scent of her shampoo, mixed with another scent he can't quite place, but wants more of.

"It's much softer than I expected..." Simmons begins leaning down towards the blanket, and Fitz worries if she gets too close he may involuntarily buck his hips into her face. It’s taking most his control to keep perfectly still, his knuckles turning white as he grips the blanket at his sides.

"It's not... I don't... This is as hard as it gets Simmons!" Fitz defends himself. 

"No, not like that. Your skin. It's like velvet over steel." Simmons says in awe, her hand starting to move gently. 

"Stop- Stop talking." Fitz orders quietly, his head falling back as he takes deep breaths. He tries to focus on not moving his hips, not making noise, not cumming too soon, and not passing out from nerves. He's finding the entire situation completely overwhelming. 

Her hand squeezes and begins to move in what she's read is the proper way up and down. He shifts his hips uncomfortably adjusting to her slow strokes. For a few moments, it’s completely silent in the room as she gently pumps him under the blanket. She looks to his face for clues as to how she’s doing and sees his pained look, face scrunched up and eyes squeezed tight.

"Is this ok?" Simmons knows she has been asked not to talk, but the whole point of this is to gather information. 

"Ummm... just... too much friction?" Fitz tries to critique without criticizing, because even though this is not enough to get him off, he certainly doesn’t want her to stop. 

"Oh! Hold on. I've got just the thing." She pulls away and reaches behind her in the dark, leaving Fitz utterly confused. She grabs her purse and pulls out a small bottle. "I've got some lotion."

"I ummm...." Fitz watches speechless as she dumps some into her palm, letting it warm for a second, his fingers nervously clutching the blanket. 

"Don't worry. It doesn't have any perfumes or additives, so it should be safe." Simmons babbles politely as she waits for the liquid to warm in her hand. While it's good to know, it hardly qualifies as dirty talk, and Fitz feels awkward sitting in front of her at full mass under the blanket just waiting. If she stopped now he thinks he may die.

She adjusts onto her knees, and then leans in so close that for a moment Fitz thinks she’s about to kiss him. Instead she reaches down and grips him with her now slick hand.

"Better?" She asks in a husky voice in his ear as her hand slips up and down his length with ease.

"Nugh." It feels so good he can’t even make words happen, so he shakes his head up and down and groans at how much better it feels. He closes his eyes and focuses on counting the digits of pi in his head.  
    
Her pacing was off and he brought his hand down to cover hers. She looks up at him embarrassed, but when her eyes locked on his, she saw his pupils blown wide with lust, and she loses any doubts she may have had. He holds eye contact with her as he guided her hand up and down showing her how he liked to be touched. 

It was the most erotic moment of her entire young life. She finally understood why people made such a big deal over sex. The connection she felt staring in his eyes as he moved her hand up and down made her feel warm all over. She stared into his eyes, glazed with lust, yet desperately vulnerable as he stared back at her. His tongue flicked out to wet his chapped lips and she wondered what he would do if she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. 

Once she had a steady rhythm, his eyes shut lazily and his head dropped back with a sigh, his hand releasing hers. She felt strangely disappointed and considered insisting he look at her, but felt that might be out of bounds. Instead she took the moment to try to memorize his face as her hand stroked him. The way his eyelids fluttered, the involuntary twitches in his cheek, and his teeth bit his bottom lip. The only sounds in the room were the slapping of skin, his heavy breathing and her pounding heart. She didn't dare say anything for fear of breaking the spell.  
   
Her hand was under the blanket moving at an increasingly frantic pace. He tried to breath, but embarrassing sounding whines were coming out of his throat and his eyes were squeezed shut to try to block out the knowledge that not eight feet away on the other side of the wall was a room filled with about twenty other classmates. This was not how he had ever imagined his first sexual encounter. He'd always thought his first time would be probably in a bed, with a pretty girlfriend who was mad about him. He never pictured a closet at a party with his best friend. 

He peaked through half-shut lids down at his lap at the rapid movement of her hand under the blanket and the way she was leaned over him he could see down her top to where her elegant necklace was bouncing between her breasts. He was so close… He just needed…

"Show me your tits." Fitz ordered breathlessly, taking Simmons off guard with the bold request.

She had never known Fitz noticed her sexually, let alone could take an active interest in seeing her body. She unbuttons the top two buttons with her hand that’s not pumping his dick and the fabric falls to the sides. He watches transfixed as her blouse opens, revealing her small breasts, contained in a semi-sheer white bra. They bounce up and down in rhythm with her arm, and his hips begin to rock up to meet her hand. He only looks for a moment, searing the image in his brain, before his head falls back and he closes his eyes tight, breathe escaping in rough pants. 

"Jemma!" He cries out her name as he climaxes. The sound echoes in Simmons’ ears. She feels his cock twitch in her hand and the warm liquid dripping over her knuckles. She watches his face, transfixed by the sight of him as he orgasms in front of her. Most of all she's fascinated by the way her name sounded as he hoarsely choked it out as he came. She doesn’t think he’d ever called her by her first name before. Now she doesn’t think she’d ever hear him say her name again without remembering this moment.  

It was a good thing he started to go soft in her hand, because for a desperate moment, watching him, she was tempted to pull off her pants, throw a leg over his lap and see how he would feel inside her. Her hand tightened involuntarily at the thought, and he brought his own hand to hers. Taking her wrist, he moves her hand off his sensitive bits. She stares at the glossy liquid covering her hand as it emerges from under the blanket. He lets go of her hand and leans back against the wall, his breath coming out in heavy pants and his eyes closed. 

Simmons sits back, not sure of what to do now that the moment is over. She’s curious enough, that she wants to lick the semen off her hand to see what it tastes like, but she thinks that would make him uncomfortable. Instead she wipes her hand on the blanket and begins to shyly rebutton her shirt.

A thick silence fills the small room as they both readjust their clothes.

"I don't want anything to change!" He blurts out as soon as he could find words again.

"What?" She asks, looking up from her blouse, confused by his sudden outburst.

"I don't want, to lose- I want to be friends, Jemma." Fitz tries to explain quickly.

"Of course, we're friends." Simmons chides him for thinking for a second they might not be. Especially in a moment when she felt so close to him after sharing something so new. She'd never felt closer to him actually. She wishes they didn’t have to go back to the party and could stay in here curled under the blanket together.

"And... and if you want to date Milton..." Fitz says, breathing deeply, "He can't have Tuesdays."

"That's our Doctor Who Night. Of course, not Tardis Tuesdays." Simmons says, not sure where he would get such an idea.

"Good." Fitz says, looking like he's still not completely convinced. 

"I suppose we should go rejoin the party then." Jemma says doubtfully, looking over at the door. Fitz looks at the door with trepadation and she hopes that he will suggest maybe they stay in here for a moment longer.

"Can we... not tell them?" Fitz asks, seeming shy suddenly. "Can we not tell anyone? Ever?"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of Fitz. It's within the rules of the party and it's perfectly natural-" Simmons tries to explain to him that he shouldn’t be embarrassed, in fact people would probably think he was higher on the social chain because of this. A terrifying thought comes to her that perhaps it's not the act, but Simmons herself he's ashamed of. "Um, unless you don't want them to know that I..."

"I'm not ashamed." Fitz quickly corrects her. "I just, I'd like it to be kept between us."

"But if we lie and say nothing happened it'll count as a pass for you. You'll have to do another shot. Plus, you know, one more pass, and you'll have to go streaking." Jemma reminds him of the repercussions of saying they didn't perform the task. The game had rules to encourage people to play their turn and punishments to deter skipping, "You already passed on kissing Britney.... Why did you pass on kissing Britney?"

"I wanted my first kiss to be special." Fitz answers honestly, feeling relaxed and a little sleepy as he comes down from the rush.

"You haven't- You haven't kissed anyone ever?!" Jemma asked, confused.  

"Well, there's no need to make a big deal about it! It's not like I haven't had the chance, Simmons, I just want it to mean something." Fitz says, getting embarrassed.

"But you- You just let me give you a handjob! That's way more special than kissing.” Simmons can’t believe someone as handsome and kind as Fitz has never been kissed.

“No, everyone always asks the story for your first kiss. No one ever asks for the story of your first handjob.” Fitz argues.

“Fitz, why didn't you tell me?” Simmons demands, feeling incredibly guilty. She should have never pressured him for something he wasn’t ready to do. She was always doing that. 

“God, don’t make me say it...” Fitz’s eyes drop to the ground.

“Fitz?” She held her breathe, her stomach suddenly in her throat. Was it because it was her? Was he in love with her this whole time, and she’d just never seen it? He’d never acted like it. Sure, they spent all their time together, and he always held the door or made sure he had her favorite tea… Oh god he was in love with her! He was her best friend, she’d never dreamed that all this time he was hiding his feelings from her. She looks at him terrified of how the next words he says may change her life forever.

“You.... you have boobs.” Fitz says his face turning a bright shade of pink.

“Oh Fitz!” Jemma sighed in frustration at him for being such a boy, but mostly because she was mad at herself for building this all up into some epic love story in her head. Even if it was only for a moment. This wasn't the beginning of some great love story. It was simple. They were playing a game. They were friends. They were drinking. They were teenagers with hormones. Nothing more. 


End file.
